


Sing (for the damage we've done)

by PhoenixGryffin



Category: Gone Girl - Gillian Flynn
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/F, Gay Rights, Homophobia, Lesbian Rewrite, Obergefell v. Hodges, Slurs, Treat, Twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 16:52:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5056369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixGryffin/pseuds/PhoenixGryffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometime during the first few months of their relationship, Go begins to notice that Amy always stiffens slightly whenever she passes the children's section of the bookstore.</p><p>Or: the AU where Amy's a lesbian and gets with Go instead of Nick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing (for the damage we've done)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aphrodite_mine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphrodite_mine/gifts).



> For the purposes of this story, I've slightly shifted the timeline/events of _Gone Girl_ ; this is mostly in order to accommodate the legalization of same-sex marriage in all fifty states on June 26, 2015.
> 
> Also, it should be noted that there are a variety of slurs used throughout the fic (mostly homophobic, but a couple ableist ones as well). If the usage of these negatively affects you, please act accordingly.

Sometime during the first few months of their relationship, Go begins to notice that Amy always stiffens slightly whenever she passes the children's section of the bookstore.

At the front of the children's section, a cardboard sign proclaims:  _It’s finally here...Amazing Amy Gets Married!_ Underneath the text, there’s a cartoon drawing of characters that Go vaguely remembers from elementary school, and below that the sign reads: _The newest addition to the award-winning series by Rand and Marybeth Elliott, Ph.D._ And below the authors’ names: _Two psychologists—who are parents just like you!_

Amy consistently walks straight past the cutesy drawings of Amazing Amy and Able Andy as quickly as she can. Go doesn't find out why she always does that until the two of them have been dating for more than half a year; turns out that once Amy had come out to her parents, the authors of the _Amazing Amy_ series, they'd kicked her out of the house. But they hadn't been willing to get rid of their fictional daughter that easily, so they'd sent Amazing Amy to prom with Able Andy just a few short months after disowning her flesh-and-blood twin.

"Wouldn't want Amazing Amy to be a queer, now would we?" says Amy, drumming her fingers rapidly on the couch the two of them are sitting on. "Because then she wouldn't be perfect."

"Hey," Go murmurs, leaning in closer to her, "hey, it doesn't matter. You don't have to be Amazing Amy anymore."

"Once Amazing Amy, always Amazing Amy," replies Amy, but she doesn't complain when Go leans up next to her and starts gently toying with her hair.

Once they've finally breached that painful topic, they can talk about anything; Amy tells Go about growing up with five dead siblings, and Go tells Amy about growing up with her twin, Nick (“who’s also a writer, what are the odds?”). Go talks about her fairly typical college experiences, and Amy talks about how she worked hard to put herself through Harvard after getting disowned by her parents (she’s understandably proud of this; Go hears the story at least three times over the course of a year and a half).

After they've dated each other for a while, they decide to get married. Amy proposes, of course; Go honestly hadn’t really been thinking of marriage, but she can’t imagine a world where she _wouldn’t_ want to live with such a beautiful woman.

The wedding is almost nearly wonderful. Go’s in a tuxedo; the blonde and slender Amy’s looking ethereal and almost inhumanly beautiful in a gorgeous white dress. Go’s family showed up for the occasion, but Amy’s didn’t despite being invited. Amy had told her time and time again they wouldn’t come, but Go’s heart still hurts when no father shows up to walk Amy down the aisle.

At the reception, Amy conducts herself with grace and poise; Go feels like a bespectacled and balding salesman overshadowed by her beautiful wife. If she’s honest with herself, she can easily picture Amy Elliott (they’d both kept their last names) as a trophy wife, clutching limply onto the arm of some businessman as she patiently waits for him to die. Not that Go would ever _tell_ Amy this, of course.

Eventually Go, a clodhopper with two left feet, leaves the dance floor. Amy, a million pinpoints of radiant light made flesh, opts to stay, dancing with everyone who showed up. Go merely watches her.

“Hey.”

It’s Nick, looking painfully out of place in a tuxedo.

“Hey yourself,” says Go, pulling out the chair next to her so he can sit down. “Decided to stop dancing with my wife?”

“Oh, come on, it was only one song,” replies Nick. “Besides, she _is_ pretty hot.”

Go stares at him, eyes narrowed. “If you weren’t my brother, dipshit, I’d elbow you off the chair right away, tux or no tux.”

“Hey, I’m just saying! Besides,” says Nick, eyes never leaving Amy, “the two of you make a pretty attractive couple. If, hypothetically, I had a friend who wanted to get in on that—”

She really does elbow him in the chest for that one; he wheezes but manages to stay sitting up. “I’m your _sister_ , asshole—”

“I didn’t say _me_ , I said a friend—”

“A friend named, say, Dick Nunne?”

Nick shakes his head, smirking. “Go, why are you always inclined to believe the worst of me?”

“I know ‘the worst of you’ better than anyone, Nick,” says Go. “It’s one of the occasional hazards of having a twin.”

“I’d drink to that.”

“Go nuts,” says Go, gesturing to her half-drunk wine glass.

He does.

After the wedding is the honeymoon. Go enjoys the honeymoon much more than the wedding itself; not only is the sex great, but the two of them are completely away from all the prying eyes of their friends and family. The spotlight has never been something Go’s enjoyed. She’s always preferred to lurk in the shadows, be the unseen figure offstage. Things are easier that way.

The honeymoon also gives them a chance to get to know each other better, both physically and emotionally. They talk about anything and everything: their career plans, their plans for their family in the future (or lack thereof; neither Go nor Amy have any desire to raise a child), their favorite sex positions.

And they talk about being gay, of course, because it’s a part of them at this point, a part of them that can no more be removed than their arms.

“My mom wouldn’t speak to me for days. After I came out, that is,” says Go.

“But at least she _did_ eventually.”

“Yeah,” Go says, lightly tracing the area around Amy’s collarbone, “she did.” She’s tempted to add something about her mother’s failing health, about how her mother may not be around much longer anyway so what the fuck does it even _matter_ really, but she doesn’t; she’s got the feeling that Amy wants to be the one who’s suffered more. Amazing Amy, the martyr.

“What about your brother?”

“Hm?” says Go, who hadn’t been paying attention.

“Your brother, your twin—Nick, right?”

“Oh! Yeah,” replies Go, surprised Amy remembers; she’s only mentioned Nick a couple times over the span of her relationship with Amy. It isn’t that she doesn’t love him, rather that her life with her brother and her life with Amy exist in two separate spheres, completely independent of each other. “Surprisingly, he was pretty cool with it. That makes him the only one in our family who was, I guess.”

“At least you had _someone_.”

Go doesn’t reply. There isn’t really anything to say.

* * *

Eventually the honeymoon ends, and with it the newlyweds return to reality. They stay in New York; Go had been worried they weren’t going to be able to afford it, but surprisingly Amy’s managed to stockpile quite a bit of money despite being a recent college grad. When Go asks how on _earth_ she managed that, Amy just shrugs, smiles, and says, “Hard work.”

After a year and a half, though, Go gets fired from her job; she’d worked at a newspaper, but they’d had to downsize; though the office _claims_ they don’t discriminate based on sexual orientation, Go highly doubts it. She considers suing but decides it’s not worth it if she and Amy lose. While Go searches for a new job in vain, Amy mostly spends her time writing pop psychology quizzes for various magazines, but that barely pays the bills.

Frustrated and burned out, Go takes to drinking copiously. Amy rarely comments on it, but Go’s sure Amy’s silently judging her every time she sees an empty bottle somewhere. She can feel Amy’s eyes boring into her, taking note of her failures.

* * *

She gets the call from Nick a few months later.

“It’s for you,” says Amy. Go, in a drunken stupor, doesn’t respond at first.

“I said, it’s—”

“I know, I _know_ , I heard you the first time,” mutters Go through a haze. “Who is it?”

“Your brother.”

“Say I’m busy.”

“He says it’s important—”

“Well, he can fuck off, then, because—” But the phone’s at her ear somehow; Amy must have put it there, and Nick’s voice is buzzing in her ear.

“It’s Mom.”

“What about her?”

“Margo—,” and Go knows it’s serious, knows because Nick never ever calls her Margo unless something’s deathly wrong, “she’s got cancer. She’s dying.”

Go doesn’t answer for a second. Across the room, Amy’s staring at her, the space between her eyebrows creased with worry.

“Margo? Go? Did you hear me?”

“Yeah,” says Go, voice cracking. “Yeah, I heard you.”

* * *

She and Amy have their first real fight a couple days later. They’ve fought before, yeah, but have always managed to patch things up with relative ease. Not so with this one.

“Let me get this straight,” says Amy, eyes blazing. “You want to move—uproot our entire lives—and move to The Middle of Fucking Nowhere, U.S.A.? With _my_ money?”

“My mother is _dying_ , you insensitive fuck!”

“So visit her—hey, I’ll visit her myself with you. But move there? You have _got_ to be kidding me, Go.”

“This might be the last chance I ever have to see her, Amy. I want to spend as much time with her as I can.”

“Go ahead, but you’re not using _my_ goddamn money to ruin both of our lives—”

“Just because _your_ parents despise you doesn’t mean I despise mine,” hisses Go, and regrets it the moment she says it. Amy jerks backward, visibly shocked. Go feels immediately guilty but doesn’t apologize.

“Fine,” says Amy smoothly. “if that’s how you feel about it.” She retreats to their bedroom; Go attempts to follow her, but Amy’s locked the door.

The door remains locked the rest of the night; Go and Amy had always privately laughed at their heterosexual friends who talked about being forced to sleep on the couch after a fight, but now here Go was, doing the exact same thing. Maybe the two of them weren’t so different from a straight couple after all.

A day passes. And then another. Amy stays in their room most of the time; Go finds herself going to as many bars as she can. Anything to get out of the house.

* * *

Eventually, Amy acquiesces.

“I’ve been selfish,” she says.

“I mean—” begins Go, relieved Amy’s actually talking to her again, “it’s your money, you earned all of it, I can understand—”

“We can move,” says Amy; Go opens her mouth to thank her, but Amy’s not done. “I’ll allow it, as long as it’s not permanent.”

“It shouldn’t be,” replies Go. “With luck, we’ll be back to NYC before you know it.”

* * *

It’s been two years since they moved to North Carthage.

Go’s mother died ages ago; Amy had wanted to move back to NYC as soon as possible, but their funds haven’t increased at all. If anything, the two of them have lost money. Amy sulks nonstop and refuses to make friends; granted, socializing is hard considering the vague homophobia of all their neighbors, but she could at least _try_ and be friendly, for Christ’s sake. Go works at odd jobs, but nothing sticks.

On June 26, 2015, the television announces _SAME-SEX MARRIAGE LEGALIZED IN ALL FIFTY STATES._ Go shrieks with joy, grabs Amy by the shoulders, and kisses her full on the lips.

“We did it,” she says, “we did it, we finally did it, we can all finally be married just like anyone else—”

Amy extracts herself from Go’s grasp, smoothing down her hair. “Is that _really_ a good thing?”

She leaves. Go stares after her, wondering why she married someone who just _had_ to ruin what should have been one of the best days of her life.

* * *

It’s been three years since they moved.

Sometimes Amy doesn’t speak to Go for days. Sometimes Go thinks that’s for the best. Sometimes Go catches herself going to the closest gay bar (thirty miles away) and kissing the lips of strangers, girls with bright futures ahead of them, girls who won’t remember Go a second after she leaves. Go knows it’s wrong, but it’s much better than being at home with Amy, who just sulks all the time.

She wants a divorce. She wants a divorce, but it would look bad; all her friends would make fun of her, the flighty lesbian. No, it’s not worth it. She can live through this.

One day, Nick comes to Go with an idea. It’s stupid, as she’d already known it would be.

“A bar,” she says.

“Well, yeah,” replies Nick. “This isn’t New York City, Go—there aren’t many bars in North Carthage. Supply and demand.”

“You want me to throw all our money—all _Amy’s_ money—into a _bar_?”

“It’s not doing much good just sitting there, is it?” Nick fires back. “It’s the laws of economics—you invest something, and then you make a profit—”

“Nick,” says Go, “you were an English major. What the fuck do you know about economics?”

“I just thought—” he begins, looking for all the world like a mournful, lost puppy, and in that instant Go realizes that he’s lost as much as she and Amy have, if not more—"I just thought that, I dunno, it would be good sibling bonding time? And also we’d make money. Money’s ideal."

“Money is ideal,” says Go, giving Nick a small smile. “Tell you what, I’ll talk to Amy about it.”

Surprisingly, Amy barely even reacts when Go asks for the money. Her mind seems to be on other things.

* * *

“It’s kind of ironic,” says Go, taking a long drink of some godawful cheap beer. Behind the counter, Nick frowns.

“Ironic?”

“It’s our—well, my and Amy’s fifth anniversary. And I want a divorce.”

She’s never said that out loud before, not even to Nick; his eyes widen once she says it, like she’s uttered some sort of horrible blasphemy.

“...You?” he says finally.

“Yeah. Me,” replies Go, looking up and staring him directly in the face. “Problem?”

“Well,” he mutters, glancing down and fiddling with something on the counter, “I just thought—you know, with you two being lesbians and all—”

“You’re saying that we just won the right to get married, and now I’m throwing it away.”

“I—yeah, actually that is exactly what I’m saying. I know she’s terrible to live with, Go, but—”

“Five years, Nick. Five fucking years of living—no, not living, _tolerating_ , barely tolerating her, and you want me to stay with her because your dick gets hard when you think about two women making out.”

Nick backs away from the counter. “I didn’t say that.”

“Really,” says Go, rising unsteadily from the stool and slamming the empty glass down much more forcefully than she’d previously intended. “Because it sure sounded like it.”

Without another word to her twin, she leaves The Bar.

That afternoon, Amy disappears.

* * *

Go can’t take it anymore—the media circus, the rumors. Especially the rumors—the news media has lately been hinting up and down that lesbians are untrustworthy, sneaky, criminal even, and it’s all coming out with regards to her case.

The Westboro Baptist Church and other anti-gay organizations have been having a field day; just yesterday, Nick had showed Go an online poster of Amy with the caption:  _DRAGGED INTO CORRUPTION BY THE FAG LIFESTYLE...NOW LOOK WHAT’S HAPPENED!!!_ and then in an even larger font: _REPENT_. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Go would have found the poster hilarious. As is, it just pisses her off. Amy had known full well what she was getting into when she’d proposed; if anything, Amy had dragged Go down, not the other way around.

Still, though, things are going alright. For a while, Go thinks that maybe she’ll be able to get through this after all.

And then one of the girls Go had slept with a couple times (one of the girls she’d been sure she'd never see again) comes forward with her testimony, and all hell breaks loose.

* * *

“You seen this?” says Nick, staring at the laptop screen.

“Nick,” replies Go, not bothering to come over, “I’ve told you, I am not watching that bitch Ellen Abbott talk about how those terrible lesbians will prey on innocent sweethearts—”

“It’s not that,” Nick says, gaze still glued to the screen. “It’s a hashtag.”

“What?”

Nick only gestures towards the screen, where the hashtag #INeedAManBecause is apparently trending on Twitter. Aghast, Go clicks it and begins reading all the tweets. There’s a couple posts poking fun at the hashtag, but most are sincere:

#INeedAManBecause he complements me!!

#ineedaManbecause girls can be REALLY judgmental sometimes, tbh.

#ineedamanbecause look bro im gay i love men this hashtag is 100%

#INeedaManBecause his eyes <3 <3 <3 <3

#INeedAManBecause Dudes Are Hot ;)

And then, of course, there are the ones inspired by the “tragic Amy Elliott case”, as people were calling it now. Most of those are downright homophobic:

#INeedAManBecause it’s not real sex if there’s not a dick involved, sorry.

#INeedAManBecause I need protection. Mostly from psycho lesbians #scaryshit #ripamy

#INEEDAMANBECAUSE FAGS BE CRAY. WHYD WE LET EM MARRY, KILL EM ALL

“Jesus Christ,” says Go. “What the hell has she started? They’re going to start, I don’t know, systematically executing us, and it’s going to be all her fault—”

“No one is systematically executing anyone,” Nick replies calmly.

Go gestures to the last tweet, nearly hysterical. “Oh yeah? What the hell does that say? Huh?”

“Go, it’s just a troll. It’s nothing.”

She opens her mouth to respond but can’t find the words to explain that it’s not _nothing_ , it’s been life and death ever since she was a kid who’d been worried she was going to hell for liking girls, she’d thought everything would be okay now but then this shit had to happen and now things are going to go back to the way they were and it’s her fault _all her fault_ —

“Go.”

Go only stares at Nick, suddenly drained.

“Get some sleep,” he says. “You’ve got a TV interview tomorrow.”

* * *

After it’s all over, Amy tells Go everything. Go plays along for a while, at least publicly. At home, she writes a book; she’s unwilling to let this story go untold, unwilling to let the world accept Amy Elliott as America’s darling when Amy’s actually a psycho who could have ruined thousands of same-sex marriages.

“That was never the intention,” Amy had frowned when Go had confronted her about the backlash. “So that’s partially why I came back. I mean, I didn’t want to punish every single queer person ever. Only you.”

There’s something about the way Amy’d said _only you_ that had made Go shiver—with revulsion, yes, but strangely also desire. Desire—no, probably just the desire to bash her smug face in. That’s all. Of course.

Eventually, Go finishes writing the book; that night, she shows her first printed manuscript to Amy, finally triumphant.

“I like it,” says Amy. “Though ‘psycho’ isn’t very medically accurate of a term—you’ll have the political correctness squad on your back for _days_.”

“Fuck you.”

“And one other thing,” continues Amy as if Go hadn’t said anything, “are you sure you _really_ want to publish this?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Amy—”

“I’m just saying, well, you wouldn’t want to ruin our reputation, would you?”

“I don’t give a fuck about our reputation, why would I—” And then Go understands, realizes what she’s talking about, and a sense of dawning horror comes over her.

“You—”

“We’re the most famous gay couple in America, darling,” smiles Amy. “You wouldn’t want to ruin the idea of a happy marriage for everyone like us, would you? After all, you already almost did.”

“That was _you_ , you fucking—” Go’s so angry she can’t even form sentences at this point.

“Debatable,” says Amy, “but for your sake, sure. It was me. So what will all the same-sex couples who narrowly escaped _my_  hand think when you singlehandedly set America back fifty years with that book?”

“I—” begins Go, and then she stops speaking mid-sentence. There isn’t anything else to say.

Without a word, Go softly places the manuscript on the table, and Amy grins wolfishly.

“Glad you agree,” says Amy, and then she walks over to the manuscript, picks it up lovingly, and carries it with her into their room. Amy begins to shut the door, but then stops, glancing over at Go.

"You coming?"

"Yeah," says Go softly. "Yeah. I am."

And then there's only Amy's smile welcoming her into the room's darkness. 

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a treat for aphrodite_mine; something about her Gone Girl prompts (part of which included "au where Amy meets Margo instead of Nick" and "what are the advantages to whatever Amy's idea of lesbianism/bisexuality/??? is to Cool Girl?") really intrigued me, and I started thinking about how a relationship between two women would definitely change up the book's major themes, so that's how this fic came to be. 
> 
> Title comes from the song "Alpha Rats Nest" by the Mountain Goats.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


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